THE DOCTOR KEPT BUSY
Strict watch was kept on all sides, but no farther sign of the enemy
was seen, and towards evening, permission being given, preparations
were made for the destruction of the tree.
Sree's idea had found favour, but the question was how the task was to
be done. Once the fire was started it was felt that there could be no
doubt about the tree's fate, it being of a resinous kind; but the task
was to get it well alight, for a furnace built against the trunk would
have had but little effect, and it was nearly decided that the best
way would, after all, be to cut off some of the nearest limbs.
An idea, however, struck Harry, as he and Phra came upon a stack of
bamboo poles collected there to dry until required for various uses.
Harry's idea was that if the poles were passed over the wall and piled
round the great trunk as close as possible, and with their thinner
portions running up into the tree among the branches, the shape of the
stack with the air passages between the tall poles would ensure a
sharp draught of air, and a fire if lit would soon become fierce.
Mr. Kenyon snatched at the plan, and men were set to work carrying the
poles to the wall beneath the tree; then after a careful look round,
it was deemed safe for Sree to climb over in company with Lahn, after
which men were ready to hand over the poles so as to keep Sree and his
boy well employed, the one in the tree, the other at the foot,
arranging the poles.
Just before sundown this was commenced, half a dozen well-armed men
being ready at the window to cover the workers, and bamboo ladders
having been placed for their convenience, while torches of resinous
wood were lit, waiting to be used.
Then, for about an hour, the work went on till darkness set in, and
the tree had grown into a strange, unsightly object, while the torches
in the yard grew brighter and brighter, till they cast strange shadows
of the workers in all directions.
Suddenly there was an alarm of the enemy's approach, and no more time
was bestowed upon the task. The word was given, and the torches passed
over the wall to Sree, who had descended from the tree, and now thrust
them in between the bamboos into a kind of chimney which the pile had
formed.
"Make haste, Sree," cried Harry, who was seated beside Phra on the top
of the wall.
"Yes, Sahib," said the man quietly.
"But the wood does not burn."
"No, Sahib; the big bamboos are slow to catch fire, but when they do
they will burn fast."
"Here, Phra, I'm getting fidgety," whispered Harry. "The rebels must
have seen those torches flashing about, and perhaps they're crawling
up in the darkness."
"Yes, I'm afraid they will be," replied Phra. "How long he is!"
"Yes, and it makes my wound throb."
"Your wound?"
"Yes, I don't know why, but it does. I say, you up at the windows, be
on the look out, please, and ready to fire."
"All ready," said a voice; "but you'd better make haste with the work,
in case the enemy should be coming up."
"Yes, yes. Hi! Sree, can't you get that wood to burn?"
"Not yet, Sahib; but it soon will."
"Where's Lahn?" cried Harry.
"I'm here, Sahib."
"Sree does not want you now; come up the ladder, and get inside."
The man obeyed, scrambling quickly up the rough bamboo steps and
passing over the wall, when Phra stopped him.
"Wo!" he said. "Stop there, and hold the top of the ladder fast."
"Pass up two loaded guns," said Harry, looking down inside.
This was done, and Phra and Harry each took and cocked his piece as
they sat astride of the wall, facing each other, but with Lahn between
them holding the top of the ladder, his keen eyes peering first in one
direction, then in the other, where the view was not obstructed by the
tree.
"Oh, I say, I say!" cried Harry, as the darkness increased, and
nothing but a feeble glow appeared through the pile of great grasses.
"You have not gone to sleep, have you, Sree?"
"No, Sahib," came from below, with a soft chuckle. "I ought to have
had some small, dry wood to burn first. It is very slow."
"Slow? Oh, it's horrible!"
"The Sahib hurries."
"Hurries? Yes. Do you suppose I want to sit here till the enemy comes,
so as to see you speared?"
"It is too dark, Sahib," said the man softly; "they could not see me."
"Nonsense! I can see you from up here--your hands and face: the fire
shines upon them."
"Yes, Sahib; it is beginning now."
At that moment Lahn laid his hand upon Harry's breast, while he
pointed away to the left with the other, and uttered a low, snake-like
hiss.
"Men coming?" asked Sree. "Well, I must get the fire to burn now."
"Can you see them?" whispered Harry, as he strained his eyesight in
the pointed-out direction without result, and then looked down at a
little writhing tongue of flame beginning to run up inside the sloping
pile of bamboo.
"Yes, many men," whispered Lahn, and he hissed sharply twice.
"Look out up there," said Harry loudly. "The enemy. Now, Sree, up at
once."
But at that moment the rough ladder held by Lahn was snatched away,
and seemed to fall over against the bamboo pile from the noise that
was made, while at the same moment there was a faint, rustling sound,
sharp clicks against the side of the palace, and the rattling down of
at least a dozen spears, which had been hurled up at the speaker, and
passed over the wall.
"Down with you from off there," shouted Mr. Kenyon at the window. "We
can't fire with you there."
Accustomed to obey, the boys threw their legs over the inner side,
felt for the ladders, and then crouched down, Lahn following their
example.
"No, no," he cried, "don't fire; Sree is on the other side."
"Oh!" cried Mr. Kenyon. There was a momentary silence, and more spears
flew over, evidently directed at the window, a sharp exclamation
telling that one had taken effect, the others clattering down again
into the narrow court between the walls.
"Can't he reach the ladder?" cried Mr. Kenyon.
"It is gone," replied Harry; but before he spoke he had laid his gun
on the top of the wall, set free the ladder upon which he stood, and
was helping Lahn to raise it up so as to pass it over and lower it on
the other side, meaning to call to Sree to take advantage of this to
escape.
But before it was half up they paused, and lowered it quickly down
again, for suddenly the result of Sree's long and careful preparation
manifested itself. There was a bright flash of flame seen running up
the bamboo pile, and by the light it shed the space beyond the wall
displayed scores of bright spear points, and double that number of
flashing eyes.
It was almost instantaneous, for the light died out again, hidden by a
dense cloud of smoke; but it had been long enough to show no sign of
Sree, and that to lower a ladder down meant to make a way for scores
of the enemy to come running up and over the wall.
"The other ladder--where is it?" whispered Harry wildly to Lahn.
"On the fire," said the man.
"But Sree--did you see poor Sree?"
"No," said the man, with all the stolid manner of an Eastern. "Said
_ciss_, but he did not come."
There was another flash, and a fresh shower of spears, followed by a
dull red glow through the smoke. Then flash after flash in quick
succession, accompanied by what might have been taken at a distance
for a confused volley of pistol shots; for now, with a roar, the fire
blazed up, rushing rapidly through the bamboos and into the body of
the tree, whose green leaves hissed and crackled, and began to blaze
brightly, lighting up the gardens beyond the wall, and compelling the
defenders at the window to crouch behind their breastwork, beginning
to fire sharply now, and driving back the crowding enemy, some of the
boldest of whom had run forward to begin pulling down the bamboos
where they had not yet caught.
In another minute all such attempts would have been in vain, for the
fire rapidly swept round in a spiral, the poles cracking with loud
reports. Showers of sparks flew up on what appeared to be a whirl of
ruddy smoke, while, as the flames roared up as from a furnace, the
boughs began to yield to its fiery tongues, which licked up all the
moisture, and in an incredibly short space of time the whole tree was
one hissing, seething pile of fiercely writhing flames. The heat soon
forced the boys to slide down the ladders, and the defenders to shrink
from the window, whose breastwork and outer shutters began to blister
and crack in so alarming a way that the occupants of the room fetched
water to be ready to extinguish the first part that caught.
The light was reflected down upon the boys as they laid the ladders
close up against the wall, and then turned to look anxiously at the
pyramid of flame in such close proximity to the palace, wondering
whether Sree's work had not been too well done.
But far away and above all other thoughts, was that which struck home
in their breasts--had poor Sree fallen a victim to his fidelity and
his determination to get the fire well alight before he sought his own
safety?
The boys hurriedly discussed this in whispers, and then they turned to
question Lahn as to the plucking away of the ladder.
"Could you see anything?" Harry asked.
"Yes, two enemies got to the ladder," said the man in Siamese. "Sree
pulled it over into the fire."
"And what then?--where was Sree?"
The man shook his head.
"Don't know," he said. "A big smoke came, and all turned dark."
"Do you think Sree was killed?"
"No. Sree too clever. Kill the men."
They asked no more, for, surrounded as he would be by foes, they could
see no chance of the poor fellow escaping; so with their hearts
sinking in despair, they remained gazing up at the floating flakes of
fire and the spangled wreaths of smoke which whirled up over the
palace, while the heat was reflected back upon them with such power
that in spite of the rush of comparatively cool air caused by the
rising fire and steam, they had to retreat and pass along to the
corner where, some twenty yards away, they could stand and watch the
burning tree.
They could hear nothing of the enemy, and were ready to go round to
the terrace entrance; but something seemed to hold them there--a
strange, undefined something in the form of hope that Sree might
somehow have escaped, and that they might at any moment see his head
rise up in the light where the dark top of the wall ran in a hard
line.
Then, too, there was the excitement about the palace, as the fire
waved to and fro and roared louder than ever, while the bigger boughs,
as they grew super-heated, burst with loud reports to let out the
compressed steam.
A dozen times over it seemed certain that the palace must go, for the
wooden jalousies and exposed elaborate carvings, kept catching; but a
few buckets of water, carefully distributed, extinguished the flames,
and it became plain that the enemy had retired to a safe distance,
hiding among the trees, for no more spears were thrown and no shots
were fired.
At last it was evident that the fire had passed its culminating point,
and the spectators gazed at a glowing skeleton whose framework kept on
falling into the main body of the fire below. At first they were small
branches which hardly reached the bottom, but were borne up again to
pass away in fresh clouds of what looked like golden snow. Then
heavier boughs were burned through and dropped, carrying down with
them those below, and so on and on till the trunk, alone stood, with
the stumps of branches rising high above the wall, one glowing tower
of dazzling light doomed to burn on and on probably for hours, and
then, fanned by the wind, slowly smoulder away into so much golden
ash.
But before this could be achieved, and when it was certain that no
danger could accrue to that part of the palace, Phra laid his hand
upon his companion's shoulder.
"Come," he said abruptly, and he made a sign to Lahn for him to
follow.
Five minutes later they were at the back of the line of defence, in
front of the great, open-work bronze gates; but all was quiet there;
no sign of the enemy had been seen, and with the palace between them
and the burning tree the boys looked up at it as it stood out against
the glow shed by the fire, which lit up the two flags floating side by
side, blown out by the soft breeze caused by the rush of hot air
rising from the fire.
"Let's go in and tell them, Hal," said Phra. "They will be waiting to
know."
Harry nodded shortly, but said no word, walking slowly into the great
hall, where two of the first persons they encountered were Mr. Kenyon
and the King.
Under the pressure of questions the boys related in simple words all
that had occurred, the King listening till they had done, and then
standing with wrinkled brow and compressed lip.
Mr. Kenyon was the first to utter what sounded like a confirmation of
his thoughts in Harry's ear.
"Poor Sree!" he said sadly; "as brave a man as ever stepped. I looked
upon him as a friend."
"Everything a man should be," said the King, endorsing this utterance
of the poor fellow's fate: "simple, modest, devoted and true. Kenyon,
my friend, we have lost one of our best supporters. He died trying to
shield us from the perils which hem us in."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon, sharply now, as if making an effort to thrust
the inevitable behind him. "You are neither of you hurt, boys?"
"My arm aches a great deal," said Harry, speaking in a dull, apathetic
way.
"Ah! Your wound. Let Dr. Cameron see it at once."
"Oh, not to-night, father."
"To-night, Hal--directly. You have been using it a great deal, and the
bandages need loosening because the cut is swollen and inflamed."
"And you, Phra?" said the King quietly.
"A mere nothing, father."
"What, wounded?" cried the King, with a quick change from his calm,
grave manner to eager excitement, as he caught his son's arm.
"Not a wound, father. A spear whistled by my ear when we were on the
top of the wall. I had forgotten it. My ear is a little cut, but it
soon stopped bleeding."
Hie King uttered a sigh of relief as he thought of what a few inches'
difference in the direction would have meant.
"Go in with Hal, and ask Doctor Cameron to look to it."
"Oh, but father, it is--"
"My wish, sir," said the King firmly. "You had both better rest then,
for you have done your share of the work."
Phra looked a protest, and the King went on:
"Unless the enemy attack us in force to-night; then of course you will
both come and help. Now, Kenyon, let us go our rounds. This quietness
is more startling than an attack. I fear they are planning something
fresh."
"Very likely, sir," said Mr. Kenyon cheerfully; "but we must scheme in
return."
They went on down to the barricade by the gate, and the boys sighed
wearily as they walked towards Doctor Cameron's hospital room; for the
spirit seemed to have sunk down in them just as the fire had fallen
after it had reached its height.
"What a capital English gentleman your father would make if he dressed
like us," said Harry, for the sake of saying something.
"Yes, and what a good Siamese noble your father would make if he
dressed like some of ours," said Phra, with a faint smile.
"All right," said Harry; "that's one each. But I say, it seems very
stupid to go to the doctor for such hurts as these."
"Yes, we must say the King sent us, or he will laugh."
But Doctor Cameron did not laugh: he frowned as he examined Phra's
left ear.
"A narrow escape, my dear boy; but as we people say, a miss is as good
as a mile. Only this is not a miss: the spear blade has cut the lobe
of your ear in two. I must put in a stitch or two and draw it together
before strapping it up. I'll bathe it directly. All, here's my wife.
Bathe this injury, my dear."
Phra shrank, but resigned himself directly to Mrs. Cameron's hands,
while her husband turned to Harry.
"Oh, it's nothing," said the boy. "We shouldn't have come, only father
and the King ordered us to show you our awful injuries."
"This is worse than you think, my dear Hal," said the doctor sternly.
"Your arm is much swollen and inflamed. It would have been seriously
bad if you had waited till to-morrow."
"Oh," cried Harry passionately; "what do I care? It's horrible; it's
too hard to bear!"
"What, this?" said the doctor sharply.
"This?" cried Harry. "Pish! _No!_--NO! But you don't know. Poor old
Sree--poor old Sree, Mrs. Cameron: he's dead--he's dead!"